


There's a TV, Joe!

by FlirtyFroggy



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Copley regrets everything, Humour, Joe and Nicky troll the hell out of Copley, M/M, copley POV, outsider pov, what happened on the plane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlirtyFroggy/pseuds/FlirtyFroggy
Summary: The look Nicky gave him as he was led to the plane seemed to pierce straight to his soul, and he didn’t seem to like what he found there. “We are usually a better a judge of character,” he said, in a tone that was a lot more ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ than James would have expected under the circumstances. “I suppose you are taking us to the person who paid for your betrayal.”“It’s a nice plane,” Joe said with a sardonic look. Of course they thought he was doing it for money. It was a reasonable assumption. Now didn’t seem like quite the moment to correct it.“There’s a TV, Joe.”“Champagne?”He hadn’t met Joe and Nicky before. If he were honest, this wasn’t how he had imagined it going.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 66
Kudos: 573





	There's a TV, Joe!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick bit of fun because that's all I have energy for at the moment (thanks, covid). Inspired partly by Copley's This Was A Mistake face and partly by [this tumblr post](https://flirty-froggy.tumblr.com/post/634867654900973568). I couldn't quite bring myself to have Joe call one of them 'garçon', but he does get champagne.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. He’d see what they had done in Sudan, seen what Andy had done in the church. He knew what these people were capable of. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when the back door of the van opened and a body fell out.

And yet, somehow, it was.

“I don’t suppose it would be possible to get these chains off us?” Nicky said, like he was asking for sugar for his coffee. The multiple guns pointing at him did not appear to bother him.

He wondered if they’d died during the fight. It seemed likely that they had, bound hand and foot and outnumbered two to one. It was a disquieting thought, though not as disquieting as the blood splattered across the walls of the van.

Keane, who was ex-special forces and had certainly seen some disturbing things in his time, was freaking out. He was doing it calmly and professionally, but he was definitely freaking out.

The look Nicky gave him as he was led to the plane seemed to pierce straight to his soul, and he didn’t seem to like what he found there. “We are usually a better a judge of character,” he said, in a tone that was a lot more ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ than James would have expected under the circumstances. “I suppose you are taking us to the person who paid for your betrayal.”

“It’s a nice plane,” Joe said with a sardonic look. Of course they thought he was doing it for money. It was a reasonable assumption. Now didn’t seem like quite the moment to correct it.

“There’s a TV, Joe.”

“Champagne?”

He hadn’t met Joe and Nicky before. If he were honest, this wasn’t how he had imagined it going.

He exchanged a look with Keane, who seemed less than thrilled about the situation, then mounted the steps to the plane.

Inside, Nicky and Joe were arranging themselves comfortably on one of the cream leather sofas. Nicky sat with his back against the armrest, his feet up on the cushion and spread as far as his chains would allow to give Joe room to sit between his knees, his back against his chest. Nicky hooked his zip-tied hands over Joe’s head so his arms were round him. There were several bullet holes in their clothes and a large smear of blood on one of the sofa cushions. It looked like a date night from some sort of weird nightmare. Feeling like he might be losing his mind, and also bizarrely like a third wheel on this plane full of people, James sat on the sofa opposite.

“Oh, hey, could you pass me the remote?” Joe said to one of the many men pointing guns at them. The man, who didn’t appear to be entirely in control of his action, picked it up and handed it over. “Thanks,” Joe said, and flicked the TV on. He scrolled through the list of movies, looking dissatisfied. “You should speak to your employer, Copley. Betrayal should come with better entertainment. Ooh, Die Hard. I’m in the mood for some explosions.”

His tone was entirely conversational, with no hint of a threat at all, yet the tension in the cabin palpably increased, as did the number of guns pointing at Joe and Nicky. They didn’t appear to notice. Something buzzed in James’ head. Could they bring down the plane? Would they? 

“Not Die Hard again, Joe. Please,” Nicky said as Keane joined James on the sofa and the plane prepared for take-off. Joe dutifully began scrolling through the list again.

“Transformers?”

“No.”

“But it’s giant robots fighting each other.”

“No.”

“They turn into cars.”

“No.”

“Transformers two?”

“I thought you loved me.”

“Three?”

“I will push you out of this plane.”

“Four? Five? Wait, they made a fifth one?”

“Joe, please. We are not watching Transformers five. Life is too short,” Nicky said, and took the remote gently but firmly from Joe’s hand. “How long do we have?”

It took James a moment to realise the last part was directed at him. “I’m sorry?”

“How long do we have? Can we watch a movie? All of Breaking Bad? How long is the flight?”

“Um. About an hour.”

“Ah,” Nicky said, and started looking through TV shows instead of movies. “Oh, Bake Off.”

“Is it the new series?”

“I don’t know. What series were we on?”

“Does it matter? It’s people making cakes. Just pick the most recent episode.”

Rather than easing, the tension in the cabin seemed, if anything, to only get worse as the pair of thousand year old warriors settled in to watch The Great British Bake Off.

Nicky, it turned out, had strong opinions about bread.

Joe had other concerns.

“I miss Mel and Sue.”

“It has been three years, my love. You need to move on. And I like Sandi and Noel.”

“So do I. I can like Sandi and Noel _and_ miss Mel and Sue at the same time. I’m a complex man.”

Nicky pressed a kiss against Joe’s ear. Several of the guns shifted uncomfortably. “I know you are.”

James was about ninety percent certain this conversation wouldn’t be taking place in English if they were alone.

“Didn’t someone mention champagne?” Nicky said after a few minutes.

“I did,” Joe said. “Is there any champagne?” he asked the cabin at large.

Nicky looked round. “You need one of those buttons, Copley. To call the stewardess.” 

“They don’t call them stewardesses anymore,” said the man who had given Joe the remote. Then he pressed his lips together and avoided making eye-contact with anyone.

“Oh, did they change that? It’s so hard to keep up.”

“The stewardesses are already here, Nicky,” Joe said with a serene smile, gesturing at the armed men surrounding them. “So. Is there any champagne?”

There was champagne, and in deference to the fact that there didn’t seem to be much point in refusing Copley ordered a bottle to be brought. Keane looked like he wanted to argue, but seemed to realise there wasn’t anything to be gained by it. At least if they were busy fucking with them then they weren’t crashing the plane into the Channel. 

The champagne arrived in an ice bucket with two flutes on a silver tray. Joe accepted them both with a smile like he was at a cocktail party and awkardly passed one to Nicky, who had to remove his arms from around Joe’s chest in order to drink it.

Joe took a sip and wrinkled his nose. “I think your employer is screwing you, Copley.”

“I’ve had worse,” Nicky said. “But yes, you are being screwed. Do you have anything else?”

The cognac did not pass muster, nor did the scotch that James knew for a fact cost thousands of dollars a bottle. The eye-wateringly expensive riesling they found in the wine fridge was similarly dismissed. Eventually, a slightly less eye-watering cabernet sauvignon was deemed acceptable to accompany the Showstoppers on Bake Off.

Merrick was going to kill him.

Keane leaned over to him as Joe and Nicky happily sipped their wine. “I’m not taking the fall for this one. When Merrick asks what happened to his drinks cabinet, I’m blaming it on you.”

James nodded. “That’s fair.”

After what felt like far, far longer than fifty five minutes, the plane touched down at a private airfield just outside London. Bake Off hadn’t quite finished, and there was a very brief stand-off where Keane insisted they get off the plane and Joe and Nicky insisted they stay on board until the end of the show. The stand-off ended when Nicky said, very calmly, “I want to see who has been eliminated,” and all the guards returned to their original positions as though compelled to do so by some force outside of themselves. Keane begrudgingly sat back down and glared.

Bake Off finally ended, and Nicky turned the TV off and stretched while Joe stood up. “Alright, Copley,” Joe said with a sharp smile. “Take us to your leader.”

**Author's Note:**

> Some scotches really do sell for tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars because rich people are crazy. Also, if you want to get yourself into a guillotining mood, check out [this article](https://www.townandcountrymag.com/leisure/drinks/g25839214/most-expensive-wine/) about the most expensive wines in the world. The riesling Joe and Nicky reject goes for $13,000 a bottle! At least!!


End file.
